What if 117? HP Variant
by Mandalore Requiem
Summary: A child's early years are the most crucial to their development. So what happen when an unlikely father takes in an ill-treated child? One thing is for certain. It's a hell of a lot better than living in the cupboard under the stairs at 4 Privet Drive.


_"Magic? What like rabbits out of hats and stuff like that?"–Gandiva CTN 0452-9.2_  
_"No REAL magic." –Professor Trevor Bruttenholm_  
_"Right…. There's an institution about couple hours drive down the road. Fancy a trip?" –Gandiva CTN 0452-9.2_

**Chapter 1: NONSENSICAL PURPOSE**

'4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey…. This is the source?' he wondered to himself while observing the dreary rain sodden dwelling. Sure it wasn't the most prestigious of places to live outside of London and it had only stopped pouring since half past the hour. But there shouldn't be so much psychogenic unhappiness emanating from one small town residence. Right? Looking at the perfectly managed gardens he frowned at the overzealousness. It was a sign of someone trying to hide something. Something they didn't want the world to know about. It made the former UNSC Naval Operator's rather curious at what he might find as his Aston pulled into the driveway. 'All right I'm here what can you tell me about this place Gandiva?'

'Not much really,' the adolescent voice in his head began. 'The property is owned by a Mr. Vernon P. Dursley. Husband to a Mrs. Petunia A. Dursley formerly Evans. Married in 1977. Had a son named Dudley P. Dursley in 1980.'

'Recent work history?'

'Mr. Dursley has been an executive employee of Grunnings Drills since 69. Grunnings is a small time local enterprise that surprisingly only sell drills,' the south london accent said with disinterest. 'Judging by Mr. Dursley's work history he is a very unaccomplished individual or unmotivated one at that given his last promotion was in 76. Mrs. Dursley worked as a telemarketer in a cubical for Grunnings from 75 till 80 when she had to take maternity leave.'

'Any troubling history friends, coworkers, relatives, neighbors even?'

'Well…. In 1981 Lillian A. Potter. Petunia's younger sister was murdered with her husband James B. Potter by a known magical insurrectionist Tom M. Riddle aka Lord Voldemort.'

'The British terrorist of the wizarding world?' John reached out telepathically but hit a veil of sorcery preventing admission yet again. He was still outside of the charm's protective perimeter.

'The very same. Their son Harry J. Potter the famed Boy Who Lived is currently registered under this address.'

'Why would the British Ministry leave the boy here? Is Harry even aware he's a wizard?' John questioned but he knew the answer from the sorrow emanating from the immaculate looking hole.

'Father what are you thinking?' there was no answer as he exit the sleek metal grey vehicle causing the few passers by to stare at the 7'4" man. A gentle mental suggestion told them to turn back for home and forget what they saw. Pausing at the door he sensed a number of emotional presences that up until now were being nullified. He could easily break through the charm but that would alert its creator to what is transpiring. 'Your not thinking of...?'

'I have to know for sure,' he knocked three times ignoring the door bell in favor of testing the solidity of the barrier with discretion. 'Strong…. Too strong to be an Auror's work. Those idiots couldn't even tie their shoes straight without the aid of magic.'

"What?! What do you want can't you see..." John looked down at the portly man with beady blue eyes with a raised eyebrow. 'This is the source of the pretentiousness?' John thought as he observed shorter of the two who had adopted a look of fear while under the titan's shadow.

"My apologies for disturbing you this afternoon my name is John Herman Septimus," he spoke calmly with authority that commanded even the lesser man's begrudging respect.

"Yeah and…?" I said begrudging respect.

"And…I'm house hunting for me and the soon to be missus. Out of the whole bundle your winsome residence and immaculate garden really caught my eye," He charmingly diddled with a practiced ease. A smug smile began to carve its way across Dursley's pudgy face.

"That'd be me Petunia a regular green thumb that one. What can I do for ya Mr. Septimus? I'm Vernon Dursley by the way."

"Pleasure to make you acquaintance Mr. Dursley." John played the part of a friendly foreigner with ease as he firmly shook Vernon's hand without crushing it into dust, "Well to be frank I was hoping if you would humor me a bit and tell me about the area. To be honest I don't exactly trust real estate agents."

"Nor should you Mr. Septimus a deceiving lot that one. Please come inside and I'll give you all the details," John smiled as he felt the blood contract welcome him inside as he followed the little troll into his cave. Looking around inconspicuously Septimus took in the charm's hidden warmth. The core emotion behind the contract was love – pure unconditional progenitive love. The kind of love that never faded – the Spartan smile at that. It seemed Lily Potter was the real reason for the dark lords demise. Who ever built this charm built it off of the residual effects of her sacrifice. "Petunia sweetheart put a kettle on! We've got a guest!"

"A guest? Who is it da-whoah…!" John turn to the miniature of Vernon and sensed what could only be described as spoilt potential. Dudley merely stared at the giant in shock. Never had he seen someone so tall before. Immediately Septimus invaded the child's impressionable mind, 'Dudley you'll thank me when your older.'

"Dudley-pussums!" Petunia a rather thin woman with pale eyes who seemed to posses enough neck for both her and Vernon came rushing over to her collapsed son, "What did you do to my baby!"

"Sorry ma'am must have frightened the poor boy with my height," John faked concern as he checked the boy's vitals before issuing a mental wake up command for the boy.

"Eh...what happened?" Dudley looked around with renewed energy.

"You fainted kiddo. You all right?"

"Yeah…. I'm fine thank you Sir," Vernon raised an eyebrow at the respectful tone while Petunia fretted over her son. "Kind of hungry though."

"What would you like snuggums?"

"Um Mum…do we have any celery?" the Dursleys gave each other a confused looks before Petunia just shrugged and began guiding him to the kitchen. "And after that can I join you on your afternoon walk Mum?"

"I-I...," okay now even Vernon knew something was now off. "Of course sweetums."

"Thanks Mum…. Though could you please just call me Dudley for now on?"

"Um sure Dudley whatever you want," Petunia look back at the stranger unsure of what to do until a foreign whisper in head told her to focus on her son and forget.

"Your one of 'em aren't ya," Vernon was pointing an umbrella in John's face terrified and already at his wits end.

"If you mean what Harry is then no. I'm something different entirely," John spoke calmly despite seeing the Dursley family's collective memories. "My abilities stem from my level of forced evolutionary mental development."

"…?" Vernon just stared in disbelief at the, 'freak.' John just ignored the thought.

"Unlike most residence of this era I have access to a greater percentage of my mind's processing power. Which affords me certain talents such as the ability to read your mind Vernon Philip Dursley son of Mathew Philip Dursely and Eleanor Margaret Dursley."

"Pfft…. Oh yeah nice try but I ain't buying."

"You haven't been a been able to get it up since you hit 21 stones and because of that your wife had to be artificially inseminated. You drown your self-pity with food, alcohol, and Television. An when that's not enough you rough up a nearsighted four year old who's father was and will be always be a better man than you."

"Y-You bast-GUACK!" Vernon felt his windpipe constrict as an invisible force brought him to eye level with SPARTAN-II Commando.

"I should kill you." The telekinetic Spartan-II spoke softly as to not arise suspicion from the now laughing Mother and Son in the kitchen before soundlessly dropping Vernon, "Even when I was young I never liked bullies. Cowards who picked on the weak. But instead I'll make you watch as your son becomes a better man than you."

"If yo–"

"It's already done. The spoiled brat you sired is dead, along with your legacy. You loose," 117 spoke coldly with without emotion. "Now I'm going to walk into the garden where your nephew is diligently working himself to the bone and offer him the life he deserves."

"Fine take him just give me back my son," heaving for air Vernon found himself staring at the carpet in disbelief before pain filled spasms racked his mind forcing Dursley to clutch his head desperately to ward off the agony.

"As far as you and your family is concerned Harry and I were never here."

{Scene-Change}

Back in the garden a four year-old with a messy mop of ebony for hair and a faded pair of emeralds sighed as he wiped the sweat from his glasses only to frown at new scratch mark his wet hand me down woolen sweeter caused. His toil here began when Uncle Vernon had literally torn him from bed several hours ago to finish the task given to him yesterday. Looking up at the flickers of sun trying to peak though the cloud cover the Boy Who Lived tried to ignore the gurgle of his stomach as he knew coming in too early to eat would result in another thrashing.

"Noon," he didn't have a watch so Harry had to learn how tell time by looking at the sun. He had gotten rather good at it too actually. Potter let a sigh of resignation escaped his lips as he accepted the facts it would be another two or three hour till he was allowed back inside depending his Uncle's mood. "Could be worse."

"Really how?" a gruff voice asked.

"It could still be raining," Harry was in mid reach for another weed when he jumped in surprise at the foreign presence. The Boy Who Lived quickly turned around to see a giant of a man standing over him in casual business wear and matching grey trench coat. "W-Who are you?"

"I guess... Someone with an offer if you interested?" 117 loosened his tie on the way down to his knee while try-failing to make himself less daunting in appearance. A inquisitive flicker in Harry's eyes caught the Spartan's attention as the Boy Who Lived studied John's browns for any signs deceit.

"What kind?" he said carefully.

"The kind that gets you three square meals a day, a nice warm bed, and quite possibly a family that love you as much as your Mother and Father did."

"My parent died in car crash…. Drinking Uncle Vernon said," the downcast look made John want to go back inside the house and finish the job. But he knew better the moment he did British Ministry of Magic will be investigating which means Voldemort's remnants will be aware of what had transpired. 117 needed to make his get away quick and clean before the Death Eaters realized Potter was out in the open. Which meant wiping everyone's memory they meet on their way to Heathrow while Gandiva deleted any and all security footage that was open to her hacking.

"Harry when has your Uncle ever been honest with you about anything?" that earned a dawning look of surprise from the young warlock. "I didn't know your parents personally but I know for a fact that were good people."

"How do you know?"

"Reputation mostly. I remember reading about them in the papers and examining their case files after they were murdered."

"M-Mu-Murdered?" Harry was young but even he knew what that word meant. Fat tears began to steam down his cheeks as the giant of a man pulled him into a hug.

"A very bad man wanted to hurt you Harry and your parents sacrificed everything to keep you safe," John spoke softly with a deep solicitous rumble. "Which is why I'm going to pick up the slack for now on for them."

"But I'm a Freak," Harry choked.

"Another lie Harry. Your just different…." 'Just like me,' John finished in the four-year-old's head. A look of shock and wonder caused young Potter to stare in awe.

"How...your the same?!"

'Yes and no. We're two different subspecies of humanity. Do you understand?' Harry shook his head at the alien thoughts in his head. 'Your a Wizard Harry a rare subspecies of humanity that has access to magic. I on the other hand went through a forced mutation to gain access to my abilities.'

"I don't understand."

John chuckles at this while noticing Potter's unwillingness to let go, 'Don't worry you'll understand when your older. If…you want to come with me?'

"But I don't even know who you are..."

"Then proper introductions are in order. My name is John and this little lady...," glowing hologram of blinding white light appeared before the two. Harry squinted his eyes as the light quickly took shape into girl probably fourteen or fifteen years of age wearing a roman toga. "...is Gandiva…my daughter."

"Hi," she waved

"A-Are you an angel?" Harry blinked in shock at the ethereal girl.

"Sorry cutie I'm UNSC AI Gandiva CTN 0452-9.2 but you can call me Diva if you like," she winked playfully at him much to John's annoyance.

"C-Cutie..." Harry's face was reddening faster than Uncle Vernon's while stuck on the toilet.

"Yup but I can call you Little-Bro if you prefer?" she winked sassily again.

{Scene-Change}

'Well that was easier than I thought I'd be,' John mused to himself as his V8 Vantage past another highway patrol. He had basically kidnapped the child sleeping in the passenger seat next to him. 'Am I no better than ONI?' the subconscious waves of contentment emanating from the bundled in his trench coat began to snore even louder. John smiled honestly at the untroubled child, 'No maybe not. Well, at least not exactly.'

'Looks like another storm's brewing Father. You think Lord Lioncourt will forgive your absence?' Gandiva whisper through his neural link despite being inaudible to Harry.

'The self-proclaimed King of the Mediterranean can wait a day or two. Besides this is more important.' John sighed in exasperation. Lestat was known for hold grudges as large as his ego but even the self-righteous arse was a dedicated father. 'He'll understand…or I'll beat some sense into him again.'

This earned a giggle from Diva, 'Why bother the moment you introduce Harry to Lady Lioncourt she'll be fussing all over him. Lestat is many things but he is not suicidal enough to get on Jessica's bad side.'

'Hmm…good point,' John smoothly left the highway for an exit ramp into south London while carefully avoiding another pothole that could have easily caused a flat or thrown off his suspension.

"BURP!" 117 chuckled at the overdue eructation that shook the Boy Who Lived from his slumber, "Uh…where am I?"

"Right now we're driving down Madbury Street," John adopted a fatherly tone he rarely used in public. "How are you feeling after all those burgers and milkshakes?"

"Ugh...," Harry moaned a little.

"You consumed five bacon-cheeseburgers, seven strawberry-milkshakes, and bountiful amount of French-fries. Was it at least worth it?" Gandiva sound exasperated as she found herself fretting over her new little brother.

"Yes...," Harry stretched out a little and let his hands fall behind his head before adorning the biggest smile that ever graced his face. "it...was...delicious…."

This earned another chuckle from John as he pulled into the garage of an indistinguishable three story brick flat before flicking the switch of the wireless garage door opener. Over hanging lights flicker on as John stepped out of the car first and quickly scanned the area for anything out of place before waving Harry to come out.

"Um Dad…?"

"Yes, Harry what is it?" John asked as he re-holstering a custom Beretta 92 before pausing in mid step. 'Did he just call me Dad? This wasn't in the parenting manuals.'

'When did you start reading?' Diva chimed in.

"Is this home?"

'About the time we first came to this universe and I thought I told you to stop listening in on my thoughts.' "No Harry this is just a safe-house. I have one in almost every major city in the world."

"Why?"

"Mostly because of my primary line of work."

"What's that?"

"It's hard to explain but the best way to describe it is I'm a Soldier."

"A Soldier?" Emerald eye blinked inquisitively as John debated on the right choice of words.

"Or perhaps simply a Preventer..."

"Dad's like a super secret agent Harry," Gandiva had that mischievous tone John dreaded. "He hunts down villains and prevents bad things from happening."

"Like 007?"

"No/YES!"

{Scene-Change: Alexandria, Egypt}

The dated ringing of a wireless bounced off the walls of a forgotten fortress as it bathed in the residual sunlight of the Mediterranean. Its occupants were locked in battle of wills reflective grey eyes flashed in defiance against a duo of withering jade greens. Grey was clearly loosing ground rapidly. The phone goes to voicemail again and an exasperated sigh is heard, "Really? This is the twelfth call Lestat get over you wounded pride and answer the phone."

"Beloved/Father…," the duo of jade eyes growled dangerously.

"Such loyal kin," the grey eyed figure responded sardonically before gliding over to the receiver and pressing the talk button. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Oh for the love of…. Jesse slap him because I can't deal with this right now," an audible smacking echoed from the blackened chamber into the receiver.

"Ow," Lestat growled flatly as he felt a lump forming on the back of his undead head.

"Thank you Jess. Now then I would like to sincerely apologies to the girls for my delay," Lestat growled at the insufferable man while Jessica giggled with the other pair of green eyes.

"Heph-hem…."

"You made me call twelve times before giving me the chance to explain my absence. Be grateful that I'm even still coming to the summit this Friday. Am I on speaker phone Selene, Jesse?"

"We're here Uncle John what happened?" a tranquil voice spoke from the shadows with neutral emotion. Like her mother she was a remarkable beauty with immaculate alabaster skin and jade eyes that delighted even the most honest of men. But unlike either of her parents her hair was black and starless like a raven's feather. Lestat had long ago mussed it was reminiscent of his mother Selene and thus decided to name his first child after his maman. John was just grateful that the child who had denominated him her "Uncle John," was nowhere's nearly as eccentric as her flamboyant father.

"It's a long story but to keep it short I sensed a crux of great suffering when I landed in Heathrow this morning – and now he's sleeping off five burgers, seven milkshakes, and plate full of fries. Contently might I add," he finished with masked mirth.

"Oh you've taken up a charge?" Lestat smirked despite his initial griping. John always had away of making his immortality more interesting.

"More like adopted a son," 117 was gently smiling on the other end of the line. The girls could easily tell.

"A son? John how old is he?" Jesse's maternal instincts were already active.

"Four, and before any of you jump to any conclusions. Especially you Lestat," Lioncourt scoffed at the spot on remark. "Know the boy came from an abusive home and given the circumstances I couldn't simply report it."

"Magic related," Selene's shrewd as ever mind began connecting the dots much to her parents mirth. They often wondered if John had rubbed off on her in more ways than one.

"The Boy Who Lived," he said surprising the vampire family. They knew about Harry Potter who didn't? An infant surviving the killing curse was simply unheard of and one actually killing a Dark Lord was just impossible…or so many thought. The four years that followed left many wondering what happened to the child. He simply dropped off the map after headlining magical papers and gossip. Plenty believed Harry was in the protective custody of the British Ministry of Magic or under the watchful eye of Dumbledore's believed dissolved Order of the Phoenix. In the past Lestat had curiously questioned the Supreme Mugwump on numerous occasions about the boy only to receive polite rebuttals each and every time. To hear the infallible Headmaster had once again dropped the ball like he did with Grindelwald and Riddle all those decades ago brought a deranged smile to the ancient Vampire's lips. If not for the danger he would undoubtedly put the poor boy in Lioncourt relishing the day he could use this to ruin the old fool's political clout. "This needs to stay between use and perhaps a few other trusted individuals for now."

"Oh course John," Jesse stared her husband down daring him to question her authority on the matter. "Harry's well being is our primary concern."

"Thank you."

"So what are you planing to do now?" questioned the Lioncourt Patriarch.

"First give him a hair cut and then quickly hit Oxford Street to get him some proper dress and luggage," John spoke as if he was reading down an invisible to do list. "Then we'll take the two o'clock for Cairo."

"Why not land in Alexandria?" Jesse asked.

"In case we're followed."

{Scene-Change: Heathrow; the next day}

Harry rubbed his head where his usual messy mop once was. Now it was manageably and short like he always hoped as ran his fingers through where the most irritating of the knots used to be. His father (Harry had immediately started calling John Dad) had spent over an hour trimming his weeds down to a more comfortable level that was not much longer than John's. "One less grapple point," he said. Harry didn't know what that meant so he simply thought it made him look cool just like his new Dad.

Smiling at the soft feeling that tickled his finger the young wizard returned his now prized baseball cap to his head with pride as he contently road on his father's sturdy shoulders towards their terminal.

"How you holding up?" John questioned while skillfully adjusting his carry-on's strap with one hand while holding on to Harry's legs with the other.

"I…," the four year old yawned. "Tired."

"Well you can sleep as long as you like on the plane ride to Egypt."

"Where the Mummies live?" Harry asked dreamily causing John to chuckle.

"Yes Harry. Where the Mummies live."

"And the Pharaohs?"

"Yup," John was genuinely smiling now as they reached their gate where a number of eager tourists were already in line to board. Each of them no doubt waiting for their chance to see the Great Pyramids and the other weathered gems of Egypt. The Spartan already had his tickets and passport in hand when they reached the queue. In five to six hours they would be in Cairo.

{Scene-Change: Alexandria, Egypt; Thursday}

"Are you a Mummy?" Harry asked the pale undead man with nothing but pure innocence. Lestat's grey eyes narrowed at the boy hiding behind John's leg. The Spartan merely chuckled while Lady Lioncourt stifled a giggled and her daughter Selene just smiled faintly.

"No," he said with distaste at the thought of being associated with one of those shriveled corpses.

"A Pharaoh?" Harry was peaking his head out of cover more as he eyed the vampire who was smiling aristocratically now. John frowned, Lioncourt's ego was bad enough as is.

"Yes I AM. Before you mortal is the ruler of the Mediterranean…Lestat di Lioncourt…," the Vampire was standing a little taller now while his kin rolled their eyes. 117 just applied pressure to his sinuses. "And who might you be young but most astute guest?"

"I'm Harry," he waved endearing while looking around the dark and foregone dwelling before his emerald eyes locked with an equally curious pair of jade. "Hi. Are you the Princess?"

"…." Selene blinked in shock while her mother giggled at the reddening of her cheeks.

"Cause Dad's reading me this story," he pulled out a small picture book from his backpack to show her. The cover depicted of a beautiful princess in a tower with fearsome dragon coiled around it like a preying serpent. "See she lives in a castle just like you and your very pretty too."

"Oh my what a little Prince Charming you are," Jesse giggled more vocally at her reserved daughter's expense while gliding over to Harry to take a knee.

"I don't wanna be a Prince," Harry declared with a winsome pout that made Jessica and Selene want to steel him for themselves.

"Oh? Then what do want to be then?"

"A Preventer like Dad."

"A Preventer?"

"Yup. I want to stop bad things too. So more people can be happy," Selene smile in approval with a little blush on her alabaster cheeks.

{Scene-Change: Alexandria, Egypt; Friday}

John felt a migraine forming while he sat in the impromptu deliberation chambers next to the merry representative of the dwarfs who very much enjoyed a good scrap now and then. Putting pressure on his sinuses Septimus resisted the urge to scowl at Lestat Lioncourt who imperiously sat almost parallel to the ex UNSC Commando. The former French Marquis had somehow magically instigated another verbal debate-conflict between delegates with that damned silver tongue of his. This time it was the speakers for the arachne and the lamia.

"Enough," the Spartan growled when the two winsome beauties were on the verge of throttling each other.

"But, Darling…," the lamia representative whimpered as her ears drooped cutely. The arachne wisely kept her mouth shut despite the evident embarrassment on her cheeks.

"No buts Miia," he said firmly causing both spokeswoman to pout endearingly. "Same for goes for you too Ráhel. Understood?"

"Yes…/Of-course," both were flushing while avoiding eye contact with the gruff Spartan.

"And you," John pointed a finger of reckoning at the elder vampire.

"Me?" Lioncourt feigned ignorance worthy of an Oscar. Both the Lycan and Dökkálfar representatives snickered while Oberon Finwë the Ljósálfar Premier and old friend of Septimus sighed.

"Behave or lobotomization," the majority of the camber blanched at the hyper lethal human's lifeless ultimatum."Not that anyone would notice the difference."

Laughter soon followed the exasperated mutter while Lioncourt fumed under a veil indifference. 117 shook his head at the antics before going over the Preventer file before him concerning the murder of Lucretia Țepeș less than half century ago.

'Lestat where are they,' John's voice flittered into the thoughts of everyone present that was supposed to be there. This was their failsafe during meetings. The representatives would openly discuss the trivial matters before the telepathic members of the council would create a "chat-room" of sorts where they could discuss the more sensitive issues by way of thought.

'Still hung up on that?' the ancient vampire seemed to be finding his finger nails rather fascinating at the moment. John just bore holes into the man's skull in retaliation.

'My. No. Our friend was murder Lioncourt….'

'And you want revenge,' Lestat said dismissively.

'I want Mina to be safe. Regendorf and his kin can only be a deterrent for so long….'

'Darling…,' Septimus felt the bonny lamia to his left squeeze his hand. Looking down towards a pair of sunset colored eyes John let slip a faint smiled as he carefully return the welcomed affection with a squeeze of his own. Miia couldn't help but blush as she enjoyed the Spartan's warmth before brushing a bang of crimson from her eyes so she could stare unimpeded into John's resolute browns.

'She hasn't forgiven me for not being there. I failed her once I don't intend to do so again.'

'You were off world Septimus,' the old lycanthrope four seat down to his left interjected with a frown. He hated seeing the man who so tirelessly fought to preserve peace and order between the various nations punishing himself.

'Alcaeus I'm her godfather…. I should have–'

'Lord Talbot is right Master Chief. The Leviathan (Ogdru Jahad) would have bleed into our fragile world had you not intercepted it at the veil with Anung Un Rama," Oberon voiced his own shared gratitude of his people. After all they were among the first on the chopping block given the close proximity of the Ljósálfar's realm to the abyss. The two were hailed as heros by many after that day.

'Your know Red hates that name right?' John asked as he remembered the cigars H.B. gave him last Sunday in his jacket and started shifting for them. One of the better benefits of his genetic augmentations was a forty-five percent faster rate of cellular regeneration. Coincidentally in the last four decades since his induction into their reality he had hardly aged a day – not to mention his still growing telepathic and telekinetic potential. Those factors alone made even the most impulsive of enemies hesitant to challenge him openly. Few even knew what a Spartan-II was or how dangerous the ex UNSC Naval Operator could be. Not to mention the amount of political clout 117 had accumulated since his arrival in 41.

'I did not,' Oberon smirked. 'But we are digressing here. Lord Lioncourt, revenge aside the Țepeș Family deserves justice surely you can understand that?'

'But of course,' Lestat replied demonstratively. The Vampire's eyes then harden causing many non-Spartans to stiffen when they saw the Frenchman's true face, 'But it does not change the fact that those three's clans hold much influence. What they lack in quality they make up with sheer overwhelming numbers.'

'Then call for aid,' John growled as they continued their mental conference. 'If it's for Mina the Earth Clan will surely assist you and so will my Preventers.'

'So will I and me kin. In the past two decades those three vagabonds have been a growing irritant,' Talbot added as his fangs grew menacingly at the thought of the usurping trio.

'You would side with the Earth Clan?' Lady Do'Urden of the Dökkálfar broke her silence with curiosity.

"I'm not siding with those spineless domesticated house slaves! I'm siding with the Spartan!" Alcaeus proudly declare out in the opened disregarding the eavesdroppers, "How many people do you know would actually gamble their own immortal soul just to save the lives of complete and utter strangers?"

"I swore an oath to protect the Earth and all her colonies. It is my duty as soldier to do so no matter the cost," John said phlegmatically as he collected a cigar from his pocket and gestured if anyone mind. 117 smirked at the lack thereof of opposition and brought his cutter to the cap of the Nicaragua wrapped cigar made with Cuban seed. Most there had similar vices while the majority were either immune or just did care much considering how long they all live.

"Oi Lad you got'nother of those?" the Dwarf sovereign to John's right asked eagerly as he took his time lighting it with a match. Chuckling John handed his spare to Gimli Battlehammer the Sixth, the Convivial Roughneck.

"Regardless you stopped Baphomet from consuming me pack and for that you have my undying gratitude.

"Stopped him? He out right beheaded the devil god!" Draven Nergal the representative of the incubi and succubi snorted. "For the first time in millennia my people are FREE."

"A soldier does what is expect of him. It is our duty nothing more."

"Well, your definition of duty has earn the loyalty of me kin no matter the storm," the Lycan Alpha male finished with no room for discussion. Septimus just smile faintly and politely nod his thanks while Lestat broke his indifferent facade to apply pressure to his sinuses.

"Honestly John only you can cause me this much aggravation…," growled the vampire. "Fine. I was planing on addressing this annoyance in a century of two. But if you all insist I suppose I can speed up my mechanization."

"When?" John asked.

'After the summit,' Lestat thought while maintaining the facade. "Ten to fifteen year at the earliest. What you are asking for is quite hard to come by after all."

John played along with believable sigh, "Very well but I expect results. Much is ridding on this."

"But of course," lioncourt responded coyly selling the deception before directing the summit toward more declassified matters.

{Scene-Change}

Giggles echoed down the cobble halls of the Lioncourt's keep as a barefoot Harry stalked his prey. All ready he had captured the proud Dökkálfar Prince Arto, pounced on Lawrence the truehearted son of Alcaeus Talbot, unearthed an always endearing Calima Finwë from the laundry room, and tickled Gimli the Seventh or as he prefers to be called G7 out of hiding. Now he was on the prowl for the ever elusive and enchanting Selene Lioncourt with his trusted demonic companion.

"Where is she Hair-whee?!" A little succubus in white pouted cutely while she magically floated on the smoky ebony emissions spiraling out of her springy blond pigtails. Harry smiled warmly at the remarkably vocal two year old before bringing his hand to his chin to emulate a perfect Sierra-117 in contemplation.

"Well, she likes reading maybe she hiding where there's lots of books," the newly christened Harrison James Septimus speculated while the little succubus happily straightened-played with the red ribbon tied to her stainless sundress. Minutes pasted in wandering ponder till crimson eye bugged out excitedly as their owner proudly tapped Harry's arm to make a declaration.

"Ooh! Ooh! I know where's Sell-lean book go!"

"Where Catherine?" Questioned the Boy Who Lived as a pair of curled goat horns bobbed up and down on the golden head of the alabaster succubus with ebony zebra stripes.

"Follow meh!" the Nergal heir chirped as she rocked away leaving a giggling Harry only smoke trails to follow.

The former Potter smiled as he learned the joys of Hide and Seek with actual friends for the first time.

{Scene-Change}

Selene smiled as she tucked in the four year old wizard and his self-proclaimed little sister in. She was sure Lord Draven would not mind if his little Catherine stayed the night. All the other children were sleeping in Harry's chamber after all one more heir could not hurt.

Turning to her left lioncourt smiled at a blissful Calima sleeping on the other end of the twin bed while using a transformed Lawrence Talbot as a pillow. The little black lycan ball of fur didn't seem to mind as his snout edged over the side of the bed unconsciously sniffing the air for trouble. The "Magnanimous" Prince Arto Do'Urden had claimed the leather recliner with his best friend G7. While their latest and most restrained addition an Arachne named Diána was now sleeping serenely in a hammock made from her own silk. The skeleton plushy she zealously carried everywhere was now clutched tightly into her chest as both of her hearts raced at the idea of marrying her first crush.

The pureblood vampire resisted the urge to frown at the thought of Harry being wed as she unconsciously hovered over Harry possessively. Jade eyes then flicker toward the lightening bolt scar while delicate looking alabaster fingers traced the mark sensing a presence that should have not been there. "A horcrux," she mouthed silently to herself as the image of a dark wizard that was handsome in away that was both slippery and unforgiving flashed before her eyes. "I must tell Uncle."

{Scene-Change}

John walked out of the chamber with a drowsy Lamia on his arm. Border disputes came up again much to everyone's object horror. The new Siren and Water Nymph representatives became rather unpopular after they forced the summiteers to remain in their seats till three in the morning.

Miia Apis was clinging to Septimus and his warmth like a life preserver now as they made a detour towards the beach. Being poikilothermic and without her favorite heated pillow for so long (1 week) aside Miia really did cherish these private moments they had together. It took Apis half a decade to get her favorite Spartan to warm up to her, another two for him to realize she had been flirting him all this time (without Gandiva's help), and final after sixteen long years they final KISSED! Miia became the enemy of all woman that day but she couldn't care less. All that matter now was the illusive Master Chief was hers and hers alone.

Meanwhile John a man who believed in making his own luck was fining himself very indebted to Lady Luck for letting someone as sincere as Miia to have walk…er…slithered into his life. Their relationship was understandably strained at first. Thanks no less to the xenophobia he unconsciously developed during the Human-Covenant War. But the Crimson Lamia was persistent in getting Septimus to admit friendship first before she boldly pushing for the gold.

Even with his brief stint of camaraderie with the Sangheilian Arbiter known as Thel'Vadam. 117 could hardly call the Elite a friend after what his kind did to his. The unprecedented arrival of the Mantel's Approach to an alternate reality where humanity was not Earth's only sentient species had forced John to reevaluate his classifications for non-humans. Especially after he found himself containing human magical insurgents in the African and European Theaters of World War II. Grindelwald's army they called themselves. John and his newly founded Preventers made sure they and many other dark power hoping to capitalize on the power vacuums learned to fear muggles.

After all it was John who killed Gellert Grindelwald without reservation during his legendary duel with Albus Dumbledore. The II had nabbed the dark wizard from behind while cloaked and assassinated the man with a karambit knife. Drove the claw like blade right into the base of Grindelwald's skull, an instantaneous death. "Talk about anticlimactic ending," Elphias Doge the only other living eye-witnesses would later proclaim in an interview with the Daily Prophet.

"The Green Knight," as the non-magical papers dubbed him was often reverently portrayed as an anonymous protector operating independently of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. While contrasting the wizarding world depicted 117 and the B.P.R.D.'s flagship agent as interlopers that threatened the fragile confidentiality of their existence. Despite the fact that the League of Nations was already well aware of the International Confederation of Wizard existence since 1920s.

The British Ministry of Magic had Prime Minister Baldwin to thank for that. It was also Baldwin who ordered the creation of a subdivisions within the Security Service and MI6 dedicated to monitoring and containing magical activity.

Blinking at the strange train of thought John looked down at Miia's sleeping head now nestled peacefully in the crook of his neck. They were resting at the edge of the Mediterranean now on a collapsed column that was half way buried into the sand. Twelve feet of the lamia's lower half had somehow coiled its way seamlessly around the II's body and was now gathering every degree of warmth Septimus could spare.

'Selene how'd it go?' John thought as felt the concern of a familiar presence materialize behind him.

'….'

'Selene?'

'A horcrux. Whether it is intentional or accidental I don't know, but I sensed a fragment of Voldemort's soul attached to Harry,' Selene was crying John could feel the worry flooding from her soul.

'I know,'John sighed. He would have given her a comforting hug if he wasn't being slowly constricted. Good thing his reenforced skeletal structure was virtually indestructible now.

The glimmer of hope in her Jade eyes was unmistakable as John observed her from his peripheral. 117 found himself wondering if her affections were maternal, romantic, or a bit of both. 'Then you have a plan?'

'Yes,' the Spartan thought calmly as he considered all the options. The young Lioncourt exhaled a sigh of relief she did not realize she had been hold before turn slowly toward her quarters.

'…Goodnight Uncle John.'

"Night," the Spartan softly thought out loud as he gazed at the moon. He was considering giving a certain Big Red Monkey phone call in the morrow. Harry was going to need a Godfather after all.


End file.
